by Ashlee Price
“You go try it on and I’ll see what we have in the front that would work.”
I thanked her and made my way to the changing room in the back of the store. There was no one else back there, and since there was only one changing room, I was happy that I didn’t have to wait. Even though Chandral’s was in the mall, Marge was still trying to keep it simple. It was located at the end, and it was one of the smaller shops. Her clothes and opinion were worth the wait.
Shutting the door, I moved to look in the mirror and noticed that I had a little darkness under my eyes. The dreams were keeping me up again. I knew in my mind that it was just a dream, but the aftereffects were that I could never get back to sleep, instead staying up watching late night television till my eyes burned.
“I really need to get some sleep.” I didn’t want Jesse to see me like this.
Sighing to myself and the reflection that I was sure was just trying to make me feel worse, I started to undress. If this couldn’t make me feel better, nothing else was going to.
It felt as good as it looked, and Marge was right, like always. It fit me like a glove. The color made my own blue eyes pop, and the darkness underneath them seemed to go away. The smile on my lips was hard to deny. I felt good in this dress, really good. It was the one that I wanted Jesse to see me in. I wanted him to look at me, not as how he knew me, but just as a woman who desired him.
My hands were going to the back zipper to pull it down when I heard a loud sound. It sounded like there was some yelling and then something like a car backfiring, a sickening sounding pop. If that had been the only one, I would have thought that it was something else, but then it became clear that it wasn’t something benign. The sounds were gunfire. When I heard the screams that followed, I was sure that I knew what was going on. Someone was in Chandral’s shooting.
I was in the far back, and each pop that went off seemed to get louder and louder. My heart was beating so hard in my chest that I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to hear anything over it. I wasn’t going to know when whoever was wielding the gun was back there with me, because my stupid heart was going to explode out of my chest.
Holding my breath, I tried desperately to slow it down, straining to hear what was going on. As I looked at the door, I saw the large gap between it and the floor and I realized that I had to get off of the ground. All I could think about was my feet being seen and me being the target of the next shot that rang out. I stopped counting at eleven. How many bullets did a gun even hold?
It didn’t matter when I heard the footsteps outside of the door. They didn’t stop like I feared, just kept going to the back. I’d jumped up on the small bench, hoping that I could somehow melt into the wall and disappear.
The gunman came back past me and two more shots rang out before I saw the shadow of his feet. The black boots were polished well; there wasn’t a scuff on them. It was all I could see of the gunman, and those boots were burned into my mind. It was only a second or two that I saw them, but it felt like forever. I was waiting for them to stop and then to see the door kicked in. When it didn’t happen, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.
The shots were now less frequent, and so were the screams. An eerie silence went through the place, and it was several heartbeats before I heard another pop. I didn’t know if he was out of bullets, reloading, or running out of victims. I thought the latter when I heard the sound next, further away, like he was going to another part of the mall. The noise continued, getting a little fainter each time. The man was not out of bullets, although the sound did change, like it wasn’t the same gun.
I didn’t care how far away he sounded. There was no way that I was ever going to come out of that little tiny room. I stood there, silent as a mouse, listening for more shots and more shouts of pain. I was never going to leave that spot again. My feet were frozen in place and I knew that I wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter 2 – Camilla
“Is there anyone else in here?”
I didn’t know how long it had been since I’d heard a myriad of gunshots and then silence. It might have only been ten minutes, but it felt like hours. I was waiting for the shooting to keep going, waiting for those horrid boots to come back. I was waiting to die, but instead I heard the same voice a little closer. It sounded like a police officer, and when I saw the boots underneath the door, I knew that it was a cop.
“I’m in here.”
The boots stopped, and for a split second I wondered if I’d done the right thing. What if it wasn’t a cop and I’d just given myself away? What if I’d guessed wrong?
“Miss?”
The door knob jiggled, but I still didn’t move from my perch on the small seat. I was still frozen in place, and it was only when the voice got louder that I even considered getting down.
“Are you locked in there?”
“No, I, uh, let me get the lock.”
It took me several moments to get out of there, and I could tell that the voice on the other side was getting impatient with me. I didn’t want to come out, and his gruff voice was the one thing that finally got me into gear.
Moving the lock to the left, I just waited for another minute or two until I got the courage to open the door. Relief washed over me when I saw the uniform and the concerned look on his face. I must have looked a state. I felt like I was a mess. If my outside was anything like the inside, I should have been a wreck.
“Are you okay, Miss? Were you shot?”
I looked down at my body like it was an idea that I hadn’t thought of. I would know if I’d been shot, right?
“Yes, I’m okay. I didn’t feel anything.”
I checked what I could see of my backside and confirmed that the dress was still as unmarred as when I got it from the rack. If only I could say the same for my soul. I didn’t feel like I’d been saved from that injury.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded my head that I was sure, although I still didn’t move out of the small space towards the police officer in uniform. I didn’t want to go anywhere. That changing room had kept me safe.
“Miss, we’re sweeping the place for any other gunmen. You need to get out of here. I’ll take you to get checked out.”
Looking down at the blue dress, I shook my head. “I didn’t pay for this dress. I need to change.”
The look of concern was back. “Miss, you need to come with me. I’m sure that no one is going to mind if you take the dress. There is no one to mind.”
His words were cryptic, but it was almost instantly clear what he meant. Save for a dusty man in a business suit who had his head down in his hands, no one else moved. There were police officers everywhere, but the majority of people in the small shop were on the ground with pools of blood around them. There was blood everywhere, and I covered my eyes, stopping just feet from where I’d been hiding in the changing room. I couldn’t look at the cold, dead stare of the woman lying just feet from where I’d been. That could have been me.
“Come on, Miss. We need to get you out of here. Just try not to look at them.”
I tried to listen to him, I really did, but it was impossible. It was even harder when I saw a familiar sweater that Marge had been wearing. I could see a slip in her hand. Was that the one that she was getting for me?
I had to step over the body of a young man as we made our way out of the store. Each person that I passed, I was forced to wonder what they were doing and who they were. So many lives gone in an instant. It was hard not to think of what would have happened if I’d had to wait for the dressing room. Was it all really luck?
When I got to a place that the policeman finally stopped, I looked back at the chaos and wondered how I’d made it out of there unhurt. It didn’t seem right. The more I thought about it, the more I could feel myself shaking inside. The what-ifs plagued me, and it was hard to focus on the questions that the man was asking me.
“Miss, what is your name?”
“Camilla Loring”
“D
o you have an ID?”
I went to reach into my pocket and realized that it was in the slacks that I’d taken off in the changing room.
“It’s back there where I changed my clothes. Please don’t make me go back in there.”
His hard face softened, and there was a bit of something else in his dark depths. “Miss, no one is going to ask you to go in there. If you would like, I’ll bring your belongings out.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
“Officer O’Brien.”
I repeated his name and thanked him again. It was hard to focus, but in a moment he was gone and I was answering questions from an EMT that he’d directed me to in the parking lot. After checking my eyes and blood pressure, I think, he cleared me and said that I seemed to be okay. Everyone kept saying that, but I didn’t feel okay.
“Here you go, Doctor.”
The officer was back with my things, and by my new title I knew that he’d looked at the ID already. My driver’s license was in his hands when I finally looked up. “Thank you, Officer O’Brien.”
“We’re going to need you to answer a few questions before you leave. I’ll also need a way to contact you if I have anything further. You’re one of just a few witnesses so far.”
“I didn’t witness anything.”
“Is there nothing that you can tell us about what happened?”
There wasn’t a lot to tell, but I tried to describe it as best I could. While I would have wished for some time to gather myself, the officer assured me that it was better to do it while everything was fresh in my mind. He was right, and I seemed to remember more than I’d first thought. I could still hear the sounds of the gun in my ears, and the smell of the gunpowder still filled my nostrils with that acrid reek.
“Is there anything else, sir?”
O’Brien shook his head and told me that I could go home. I thanked him for the tenth time and made my way into the parking lot where my car was. There were cars and lights everywhere, police tape going up to cordon off the area. I just felt cold as I walked away. How had everything changed in the blink of an eye? One minute everything was okay and the next moment my life was forever going to be different. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.
Chapter 3 – Camilla
I felt numb all over, and I realized how badly I was affected. There wasn’t a day or night that went by that I didn’t think about all of those people in the mall. The news was on every station, but I just couldn’t bring myself to watch it. The only thing that I could bring myself to do was sleep. My bed became my sanctuary, no matter what responsibilities I had. I just couldn’t do it.
When the phone rang I looked at it suspiciously and tried to ignore it. I had a feeling that it was the office, and since I wasn’t coming in that day either, I didn’t think that there was anything that I could do but ignore the call. I didn’t want to go in and help people with their problems when I had problems of my own to attend to.
The cordless phone stopped ringing, and I was closing my eyes again when the cell phone next to me started to go off. I knew then it was Sara and the only thing I could do was answer. Sara would understand that I just couldn’t do it. Besides, I wanted to talk to someone, and Sara had tried for days.
“Hello.”
“Thank God, Camilla! I was so worried about you. Why haven’t you picked up your phone?”
Her worry was nice to know, but the barrage of questions was going to be a little harder to deal with.
“I just was sleeping, that’s all.”
“Camilla, it’s almost noon. What are you doing sleeping?”
I shrugged to no one in particular. Sara couldn’t see me, so I just closed my eyes and settled back into the bed. “I’m just tired.”
“Camilla, it has been a week. They caught the guy. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”
I wasn’t worried about the shooter, although her words sent a shiver down my spine. I’d thought he’d been killed in the shootout. That was how most of these things ended. The shooter never got away, and the idea that he was just caught made me nervous. I didn’t want the man to get mad that there was a survivor who could identify him. I hadn’t really seen him, just his boots, but the idea made me feel a little cold inside.
“I would tell my patients that it’s okay to be afraid and to take time to heal.”
“That’s the problem, Camilla. You need to come back to work. There are a few survivors who’ve been sent our way. They start coming in Monday. Turn your fax on so that I can send you the information. Since you were part of it, I think that you should take them. Maybe it will be beneficial for the both of you.”
I’d only seen one man who was there with me, although I’d been out of it and I certainly hadn’t gone through the place looking to see if I was the only one with the blank stare in my eyes. It was a dilemma, and I wasn’t sure what to do. How could I just be okay after something like that? I knew what I would tell a patient about it, but now the words just seemed so hollow when I tried to say them to myself. It just didn’t have the same weight as it would have before.
“I don’t know if I’m ready yet, Sara.”
“Camilla.”
Her voice had changed. She was using that voice that she used with her clients, the one that said she was sorry for what they had gone through. I was used to that tone, because I also used it from time to time. It was the empathy that bothered me, and I felt my feathers getting ruffled. I didn’t want her to feel bad for me.
“I’ll come in next week. It’s Friday and the day is almost over.”
Sara made a sound that told me she didn’t agree with my decision, but the fact of the matter was it was my decision. I didn’t want her to know how badly I was affected. I was embarrassed about how scared I felt. I was the doctor who was supposed to help people, and I didn’t know if I could. How could I help others when I was such a mess myself? It didn’t make sense, and the longer the silence dragged out, the worse it was.
“So how is everything? Are you guys busy?”
“You know we are. I’ve had to send away countless people who were here to see you. You have to come in. They need you, and I need my friend back. I can’t talk to Greg all the time. You know how he is.”
She made me smile, but I refused to laugh. It was funny to me that she was calling. She had her own clients to take care of.
“I’m fine, really Sara. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t feel like I’m going to be much help to anyone right now. Not like this.”
“Sometimes you need to show your vulnerabilities to help others. Take the rest of the day off, the rest of the week off, but Monday morning you’re going to have survivors in here. I can’t think of anyone more qualified to help than someone who went through the same thing. I think it would be good for you.”
Sara was sounding too much like a doctor and not enough like my friend. The pragmatic side of me knew that she was right, but that didn’t really matter. What mattered was the fact that I did have to get up and do something. I couldn’t lie in bed all day.
“I’ll be there Monday. Thank you for taking care of my patients. I know that I need to get it together, I know that, but I guess it’s harder than I thought it would be. Sara, there was just so many bodies, and Marge…” I felt my voice catch and I stopped talking, not sure where I was supposed to go from here.
“It’s going to be okay, Camilla. I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.”
I did need someone to talk to, just not yet. Every time I said anything about it, or heard a loud noise, I was unable to stop the shaking in my body and the fear that coursed through me. Was this how my clients felt? If it was, I felt bad for any time that I’d told them to basically get over it. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to get over it, and this is what I did for a living. Once again, I felt like a fraud, and I wasn’t sure what more I could do. Was I going to feel like this forever?
“Just turn your fax on and I’ll send you the files.
Start there, Camilla.”
I agreed, but looked back lovingly at the pillow and warm sheets that I’d left. Couldn’t I just stay in bed a little while longer?
Chapter 4 – Camilla
I heard the fax machine going off. I didn’t really want to see what Sara was sending over. It was going to be files of people that I was expected to help. It was hard to fathom how when I didn’t even know how to help myself. I could have just gone back to bed, but something had me getting up and turning the television on.
The mall shooting was still one of the top stories. I’d stopped even trying to watch the TV, but I knew that it was going to be the first step in my healing process. I had to take it on right then or I was never going to be able to. I had to face it, no matter how hard or painful it was going to be.
“The latest is on the arrest of the shooter. Twenty-eight-year-old Kingston Dowell has been arraigned and there will be no bond set for him. The police are keeping him in protective custody for his own safety as there have been threats on his life.”
I just shook my head and wondered for a moment why the police were so keen to protect such a man. He’d destroyed many lives, and it seemed like there was more worry about him and his life than all of the lives that he’d taken in his rampage. To me, it just didn’t make any sense.
“Billionaire tycoon Tyler Hudson was one of the many survivors of the mass shooting. However, no one has been available for comment at this time.”
The newswoman to the left of the announcer asked why that was, and I let out an unladylike snort. There was no way that I was going on air to tell my story, and I started to wonder why anyone in their right mind would do that. It just didn’t make any sense to me. I wondered again how many had survived. There were pictures of the victims flashing across the screen, and each one of them could have been me. Why was I the one who’d been in the dressing room, instead of one of the other women? Why had I survived?
